Retaliation of the Izvoshra
by IbnYalla
Summary: When Grievous was once a Kaleesh Warlord he had many children after the death of his wife. He did this to try to make the sorrow lessen, but it failed. This is a story of one of those children eventually rising up in power and waging war on the Galaxy. I would really appreciate reviews. I want to become a better writer, so don't hold back anything when ya give me criticism. Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

Dark, bitter, cold, and lonely. These four words were usually perfect for describing the planet known as Kalee at this time. The stars and distant lights of objects too far to identify did little-to-nothing to the vast darkness of the sky. In fact, due to this with combination of the current season, you'd usually be hard-pressed to find people wandering around. Not that the daytime would improve spirits; due to Kalee's siding with the Confederacy of Independent Systems during the Clone Wars and the Kaleesh themselves being a non-human race, the Galactic Empire made sure to target the Kaleesh. Xenophobic polices with strict embargoes made Kalee and the Kaleesh people suffer deeply. Indeed, the words dark, bitter, cold, and lonely usually described Kalee perfectly. But tonight was different.

The burning embers that rose to the sky illuminated the campgrounds, drawing more attention to the speaker.

"…the warrior could not find peace after his love died." The old Shaman said, slowly pacing around the fire, making sure all in attendance could see his movements. "Her body which was casted to sea could not be found by him, wounding his spirit even more."

The crowd that sat directly around the old Shaman and the fire were warriors themselves. Though even an outsider would notice the odd group, the majority of the warriors were young and looked inexperienced. More disturbing than that, most of the young warriors' masks did not bear the sacred war paint.

"The warrior, who never took a second wife when she was alive, now took wives that numbered past ten. Then he had many children, over thirty of them! He hoped that having a house full of wives and many heirs would soothe his grief." The old Shaman looked past the warriors and saw the village, many of the Kaleesh were out of their homes watching the festival that took place. Just a few months ago these people's spirits were low, now they warmth with joy. The old Shaman limped back to the fire, throwing some herbs and powder to make it grow and warm the audience. "Yet being in that house full of children and women did nothing to soothe him. The warrior left his home and children behind, going on a pilgrimage. Hoping some way to save him from the grief inside him."

A sudden shiver attacked the night. The fire fought against the wind. Mothers huddled closer to their young children to save them from the cold. It was as if the planet was reacting to the tale.

The old Shaman paused, allowing the audience to adjust to the cold before continuing on. "The warrior traveled far and wide on this pilgrimage, seeking the aid of holy men and shaman. A few decided to accompany the warrior on his travels," the old shaman stopped his story and looked unto the crowd, with sorrow in his voice he spoke up once more, "I wish I could have journeyed with the warrior, but I could barely hold a blade. He came to my village when I was just a child, seeking wisdom from my father." The crowd began to murmur, the days of when it was common to meet people who knew the warrior before he descended into godhood was long gone.

Leaning on his staff, the old Shaman seemed to be recollecting now more than storytelling. "Even at that time he was considered a demi-god, yet when I first laid my eyes upon him, I did not feel that godly energy. Rather I felt the dark sorrow that radiated from his body." The old shaman looked up, almost of surprise when he realized he was starting to ramble. He continued the tale, "Much time was passing yet the grief did not lessen for the warrior. Whether it was a conscious choice, or his heart led him back there, the warrior returned to the Jenuwaa Sea, where the body of his beloved rested, hidden from him by the sea."

Soft cries could be heard, most knew the story by heart and the outcome of this tragic pilgrimage was soon to come. Three of the Kaleesh warriors, the ones whose masks had paint and whose body held the most damage, bowed their bodies to the ground, allowing their tears to hit the floor faster; these three were the remainder of the eight Izvoshra-the warrior's greatest allies and warriors. In the audience most of the other older Kaleesh warriors lowered their heads and held their weapons to the sky; these were the Kolkpravis-the army which was led by the warrior. The rest of the warriors began to beat their chests, giving respect and honor to the warrior, to the legend they were told about since they were young.

The old Shaman continued his limp pacing, "In the Jenuwaa Sea, laid the most sacred of all the islands: Abesmi! The warrior went to this land, in which the native Gods ascended into heaven." The excitement and passion from the old Shaman grew at this part of the tale. "He went to the Sacred Alter and prayed to the gods to return his beloved! "Bring her back to life," he pleaded! He even asked the gods, "Just bring her body up from the sea so I may see her one more time!" After weeks of fasting, praying, and grieving, the only response the gods gave to the warrior was silence. This is when the warrior truly awoke to the gods' answer. He now knew his destiny was to grieve over her forever."

At this point the old Shaman took a break, the people were excited for what was about to come. All around the campsite, people were chanting the warrior's new name.

"He felt that his name must also represent this destiny. He gave up his name and choose a new one. No longer the demi-god Qymaen jai Sheelal! He took the name Grievous! For forever shall he grieve over his lover!"

For most of the galaxy, especially in the Outer Rim to the Core worlds, the name Grievous brought up feelings and memories of total war, annihilation, brutal conquest, and supremacy. But for the Kaleesh, the name belonged to their greatest hero and warlord, savoir, and one of the ascended gods. The assembled warriors and the villagers began chanting and worshipping.

The old Shaman, with energy beyond his days continued the tale. "Grievous then formed the Kolkpravis and then the Izvoshra! He expelled the murderers and slavers known as the Huk from our world!" The joy of the people could no longer be contained, shouts of praise could be heard from even the farthest side of the camp. The old Shaman began to sit on a log, growing greatly tired, but continuing the tale, "Grievous then went to the Huk homeworld and raged a total war upon them! Such cowards they were, pleading to the Republic for aid. Where was our aid when we were being enslaved?!"

The crowd, after what felt like hours but in reality only a few minutes began, to die down. They knew the rest of the story, how the Republic sent aid to the Huk without even investigating the claims. While it was true that the retaliation of Grievous and his Izvoshra on the Huk homeworld was merciless, the blasted Republic went along with Huk's story of it being an unprovoked attack. While the Kaleesh may be a warrior society at heart, they were no match for the combined efforts of Republic militiamen, the Huk, and worst of all: the Jedi. The conflict that followed the attack on Huk was short. Grievous, along with his Izvoshra, were forced to return to Kalee. It didn't end there though, the Republic felt it fit to attack Kalee itself, and just because they could; put major economic strains on Kalee by fining them and closing off all major trade between them and other worlds.

This would've led to the completely collapse of the Kaleesh homeworld, and for the most part, it did. While his heart would forever remain to his beloved first wife, this did not mean Grievous didn't love his current wives and their many children. Many of Grievous' children, especially those younger in age, suffered until they died, as well as a few of Grievous' wives. Seeing his people suffer, had no choice but to accept the deal made to him by the InterGalactic Banking Clan's San Hill. Hill, who took a great interest into Grievous' career as a warrior promised that if Grievous worked for him that the Banking Clan will greatly aid the recovery of Kalee and her debts to the Republic. For some time Grievous left Kalee in service of the InterGalatic Banking Clan, but he returned eventually.

"Grievous left his home, not out of war and revenge like he did last time, rather for love and hope!" The old Shaman finally continued, the cheer of the people long dead. "But when Grievous returned it was for revenge. The Huk bastards desecrated many of our sacred sites! We still have our gods while the Huks' have long abandoned them! So did Grievous return to avenge us and our gods! He gathered up all eight of his great and mighty Izvoshra to go to Oben, a world full of rich resources, held a massive colony of the Huk." At this point even the old Shaman began to slow his story. What came next was one of the greatest defeats and victories all at once.

Finally, the old Shaman rested on his chair, as he did so the three men who were bowing onto the ground rose and took their places at the head of the fire, that was itself starting to go down burning into itself as the first weak light of dusk began to appear. The first and oldest of the surviving Izvoshra was also the tallest, Terg liz Tazzos. His mask was almost dark because of all the battle damage done to it, not only that but two tubes on either side of his head snaked out and connected to a machine that was on his back, that had wires go down to his belt. Since that fateful day he needed this machine to survive. Especially on the left side of his body, and greatly on his left arm, were cybernetic implants. The next of the three was by far the shortest of them, Yissyah tyr Shasael was his name, his mask was unlike most. Its structure was that of mumuu bone, but it wasn't filled like other masks, rather it provided an outline that was covered by cloth, making it almost hood-like. The final of the three was Tosma dai Sheelal. Her mask was also strange when compared to most masks, instead of being made from either mumuu bone or karabbac bone, it was made from both. Infused in such a way that it almost seemed oval lines were on the mask. The robes she wore were almost a withered orange color.

Everyone in audience bowed their heads as the three made their way up. Tazzos, adjusting a machine on his belt, spoke in a voice that was restricted by the tubes.

"I remember when Grievous announced us to him on that day," he began in an almost recollecting way, "We were surprised to see him at first, he along with two of the other Izvoshra had been to systems far removed from our own." Pausing to catch his breath, he continued but his voice was more noticeably strained, "I believe we only spent a week preparing, Grievous wanted to leave within the day but we convinced him to stay with his family for a bit, and for us to catch up once again." Now his voice sounding grasp and empty, Tazzos began once more. "The day we were leaving, he was-" Finally his voice gave out. Sheelal quickly took his place.

"When we were going onto the ship, Grievous was the last to get on. I remember seeing Grievous kneeling down to a holy man. It was…humbling almost. Seeing our demi-god kneel to a holy man, who was marking his head with new sacred marks while also praying to Grievous." Sheelal also had to pause at this point, tears running down her scared face. "When Grievous first returned he had no plan in order, luckily, we convinced him of needing more time, that way we could actually decide where to attack. There's something about it when I see it in my head, unbelievable rage then somber pride and readiness, all within that short week."

The crisp light of the early morning sun finally pulled through, making the three Izvoshra glow. The warriors sitting on the ground gave their praises to Grievous and the other gods for allowing them to see another morning. Shasael began walking away from the group, getting the preparations complete.

Sheelal continued her story, "What happened next was our greatest shame. We failed our most sacred duty, shaming us forever. When the ship was entering orbit, it exploded." Crunching her hand and holding back her anger Sheelal dropped the storytelling technique and just began talking, "it just…exploded. Why? Why? What went wrong?" She told herself angrily.

That was a dim day indeed for the Kaleesh. They believed that the nine greatest warriors died all at once. But that was not the case. Only a few days after the shuttle exploded, Bentilais san Sk'ar, resurfaced. While Grievous was a warrior turned warlord from the East, Sk'ar was a warlord from the West, who ruled the people of his land. Believing he was the only survivor of the shuttle explosion, he returned to the land and gathered as many as the Kolkpravis warriors as he could and continued his mission to Oben. He wasn't even fully recovered when he began the invasion of Oben, but a beast of Kaleesh like himself had a much different idea of recovered. After a bloody campaign, Sk'ar was able to slaughter almost all the Huk on Oben, the rest leaving it to never return. Since Grievous was believed to be dead at the time, the Banking Clan stopped supporting Kalee's recovery. Sk'ar, who was now the ruler of the Kaleesh people took most of the Kaleesh and Kolkpravis to Oben, establishing it as the new Kaleesh homeworld. No one was sure why, but the Republic did not intervene with the taking of Oben.

It was originally believed that seven of the eight Izvoshra perished, in reality only four perished. Tazzos, Shasael, and Sheelal all survived unknown to each other. Much time passed and when each induvial was recovered enough to reveal themselves, each one decided independently from each other that it was best to exile themselves. They three held respect for each other and a fanatical belief and loyalty to Grievous, Sk'ar did not. Sk'ar respected one thing only: power. Sk'ar only followed Grievous because Grievous was the greatest of all Kaleesh warriors. Sk'ar would have never betrayed Grievous, he respected him too much to do such a deed, but Sk'ar did not respect the other Izvoshra like he did Grievous. Not only that, Sk'ar was never loyal to Grievous the God, he was loyal to Grievous the War-Hero and Protector of Kalee. So, the three knowing this information exiled themselves, out of shame of allowing their lord to perish.

Many seasons after their exile, came news that shocked all Kaleesh warriors. Fours months after the war between the Republic and CIS started, known as the Clone Wars, came a major event that shook the course of the war. During the Battle of Hypori emerged a strange being that decimated a group of Jedi. This was the first appearance of the cyborg named Grievous. Only a short while after the Battle of Hypori, this Grievous was named the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies. When this information was discovered by the three remaining Izvoshra, they returned to Kalee, which still held a sizeable population.

Grabbing Sheelal's shoulder, hoping to comfort her, Tazzos explained from there. "We returned to Kalee, we returned roughly at the same time. The news of our lord propelling us when we first heard of it. This was one of the happiest moments in all our lives, knowing that were other Izvoshra alive and that Grievous was possibly alive once more." Tazzos saw three figures approach from the distance when he looked up. Seeing them made him decide to finish up the tale. "We felt it best to avoid taking power at this time, we didn't deserve it. But we stayed on Kalee hoping for Grievous to return to us. The remaining power of Kalee must have thought so as well, when news of Grievous came out, Kalee joined the CIS. Of course, hurting the Republic also played a role." Tazzos saying the last part with a smile.

While Kalee was officially part of the CIS, the planet wasn't heavily involved in the war-effort. To make things worse this General Grievous never came to Kalee. Oben never joined the war, keeping itself neutral and isolating itself from the Republic and CIS. That backfired years later. In the final month of the Clone Wars, General Grievous did the impossible and invaded Coruscant. In the end the invasion failed, Grievous escaped and wasn't heard from again until his death on Utapau. With his death the War was considered over. The death of the Separatist leaders that followed shortly after only made it harder for the few resistance groups to stay above the water. The death of Grievous should have been the biggest event at the time, his death ended the war. But it wasn't. Hearing of Grievous' death, the Jedi tried to take over the Republic and attempted to assassinate the Chancellor. When it failed, the Chancellor Palpatine enacted a new rule, converting the Old Republic to the First Galactic Empire.

The warriors who were once seated at the ground made space as the three figures made their way to them. Now kneeling, they allowed the group to pass them. The three figures stopped when they reached Tazzos and Sheelal. Dropping to their knees, Tazzos and Sheelal gave their respect as one of the figures removed his callow, kneeling like his fellow Izvoshra to the two standing figures. The old Shaman gave his staff to the shorter of the two figures, then kneeled opposite of Tazzos, Shasael, and Sheelal. The shorter figure removed his hood, it was a holy man. The holy man turned his back on the crowd and faced the man everyone was bowing to.

"When you are ready, my lord." Said the withered voice of the holy man. There was complete silence now.

At a few minutes, the one the holy man addressed as lord, removed his hood. Looking down at the people he declared to them, "The son of Grievous has returned!" With that the crowd cheered and stood up. A new Khagan had emerged.


	2. Chapter 2

There are over a thousand systems, almost all of them contain planets and moons that can sustain life. Most systems exist in the vastness of space, content on keeping themselves with the day-to-day activities that the system ordinarily goes through. Just because a system is part of a greater galactic government doesn't mean it's heavily involved with that government. Some tariffs here, taxes there, and some military and trading routes all around is probably the most a system would normally deal with. Meaning that if you piloted your ship to some random sector of a world in some distant system, you could escape your life and start fresh.

Logically it would seem that any world could do the trick. A person could flock to any world to start anew. Yet it seemed like most people wanting to escape their old lives would end up on the largest moon of Nal Hutta, the one known in the Hutt language as "the glorious moon." Nar Shaddaa. This situation is what one Leon Pichet finds himself in. In the corner of a grubby looking table in the back of a gloomy looking bar in the red-light district, Pichet shuffles his pazaak cards, waiting for a lowlife gambler to approach.

Just a few standard years ago, Pichet was a high-ranking engineer and designer who was the top of his class from the Imperial Academy. But that was then, now he's little more than a beggar in a sleezy bar gambling the days away. Though something does ring true for the past Pichet and the present Pichet, he's always been a gambler. His attitude and personality toward his professors at the Imperial Academy were a gamble that succeeded. His design of a sleeker engine and improved layout for the later generations of the Type I Star Destroyer was a gamble that succeeded. His plan to secretly play both sides of the Imperials and this rising in power Rebel Alliance was a gamble that failed miserably. The Imperials want him dead and the Alliance wants the knowledge that's inside his head.

So now all Leon Pichet does is gamble, usually with the game of choice on Nar Shaddaa, pazaak. The game is simple by design but that doesn't mean it isn't filled with close intense moments and mind games. Pazaak matches can range from short-quick matches to drawn out rounds, depending on what's really at stake.

A metallic ding suddenly chimed followed by a whooshing sound as the metal door rose allowing a patron to enter the bar. The figure wore clothing most commonly used by freighter pilots, part of his face was obscured by a rag with goggles. The unremarkable man took in the scenery before walking to the bar keeper to order a drink.

"Any chance you carry Corusanti-styled spice ale?" The man said in a voice that Pichet was familiar with but could not identify. "It's been months since I had any and I doubt my next few stops would have any." The man continued saying to the bar keeper.

At this point Pichet regarded the man with a small look before continuing back to shuffle his pazaak cards. The man was probably a pilot wasting time until cargo was loaded off then replaced on his freighter ship. Of course the pilot would stop by the red-light district, it was the safest place for an off-worlder to wander around, the Hutts would hate for their business to be disturbed.

Pichet only looked up again after hearing footsteps approach him. It was the pilot holding a mug. Pichet, trying to gauge the man asked,

"How's the ale?" Referring to the mug the man was holding. The man gave a grin and replied.

"I had to settle on blue milk, turns out I don't have as much free time as I thought I would."

Pichet gave out a small laugh, "I bet you wish the dock workers would work slower then."

Seeing Pichet laugh, the man's grin widened into a smile. "Usually we're behind schedule, this is the first time in a long time that we're ahead of schedule." After chuckling for a bit, the man seemed to have finally noticed the pazaak cards that Pichet was shuffling. "You play pazaak?" The man asked in earnest.

At this Pichet took an interest, "Oh I do more than just play pazaak, it's my passion."

"Well then, how about a game?" The man asked Pichet.

Pichet eyed the man, "Do you even have enough time?"

And with that the man took a seat across Pichet, "I always make time for pazaak."

The goal of pazaak is to score a higher number than your opponent without going over twenty. Each person has their own deck consisting of special cards; the blue cards are plus a number ranging from one to six, the red cards are minus a number ranging from one to six, there are mixture cards that are plus or minus a number that ranges from one to six, allowing you to choose whether or not to add on or take away from your overall number. From your deck four cards are randomly chosen and placed in your hands, you can only use these cards during the game and once they're used, they cannot be used for the rest of the game. The game works like this, a turn starts off a player given a yellow card, that card holds a number. The player can either end their turn; keeping the number the same until their next turn in which a new yellow card is drawn, use a card from their hand; changing that number to a different value, or stand; keeping that number value the same until the end of the round, if a player reaches twenty then they automatically stand for the rest of the match.

Say you've just finished drawing a yellow card and the total value is at eighteen, you have a plus-two card that you play taking you to twenty, you cannot draw until the opponent stands on a number lower than yours, goes over twenty, or gets a twenty ting with you. Say you've just drew a number that made your total value add up to eighteen, after that you end your turn. On your next turn a yellow card with the value of five is drawn, totaling your total to twenty-three, you then play a minus-three card, taking your total value to twenty. The game is played until someone wins three rounds total.

"Do you have a side deck?" Pichet asked the man sitting across him.

Patting his chest, the man pulled out a deck of cards from a pocket that was where he patted. "I never go anywhere without it." The man said with confidence.

Pichet gave a grin, it was always fun to meet a person who had passion for the game. "To make things more fun how about we wager instead of playing with the Republic Senate rules."

The Republic Senate rules of the game was the same as regular pazaak with the only difference being that nothing is wagered. The game is just played with nothing changing at the end of it, just like the Old Republic's Senate.

"I'm feeling good, so sure." The man said to Pichet as he finished shuffling his deck of cards.

"Let's start off with a small wager of twenty Imperial credits," Pichet said to the man, "Twenty is a number we want to aim for after all."

At this the man laughed. "How about we throw something on to that money as well, ain't information just as valuable as money?" After saying that the man placed his deck into a machine.

The machine gave a quick vibration before shooting out four random cards from the man's deck. The machine wasn't required to play pazaak, it did the same job that any person could do. Shuffle the deck then draw out the four cards on the top. The man would get his deck back after the game was over. The only real purpose of the machine was to prevent cheating.

Pichet looked at the man, one of his brows raised in question. "Oh? And what information did you have in mind?"

The man barely regarded Pichet while looking at his hand. "How about our names?"

Suddenly Pichet felt there was more to the man than originally thought. With an empty feeling in his stomach, Pichet agreed to the wager of twenty credits plus the reveal of the loser's name.


	3. Chapter 3

Leon Pichet regraded his hand. In it was a minus two card, a plus three card, a plus or minus one card, and a plus two card. It wasn't the best hand, but it could've been a lot worst, as long as he got close to twenty, he would be fine. Looking up, Pichet saw the man across him had a tightened face, giving Pichet an indication of what the man possessed.

'Fool.' Pichet thought to himself, perhaps Pichet didn't need to worry. A calming feeling fell on Pichet, while keeping your cards a secret in Pazaak wasn't as important of keeping them concealed in other games, it was still better not to let your opponent know.

"Luck of the draw, eh?" The man jokingly said to Pichet. Pichet giving him a cool smile replied.

"The Force wills all things, ready to start?"

Without replying the man pressed a button on the small machine, an electronic rumbling filled the small space. Finally, the machine spit a six card toward Pichet.

Pichet decided he wouldn't do anything on this turn, it was still too early to use any of his cards. He ended his turn. Next the machine spitted out a ten card to the man.

"You mentioned the Force earlier, believe in that stuff?" The man asked Pichet as he ended his turn with no play.

"Doubtfully," Pichet said to the man, "I always assumed it was a meditation technique that people exaggerated." The machine gave Pichet a three card, adding his total to nine.

Giving a sly grin, the man retorted, "I'm not sure I believe in it, like if it applies to me. But I've seen it being used." The machine gave the man a seven card, bringing his total to seventeen.

That comment got Pichet's interest. Since the rise of the Empire, you don't hear too much about people talking about the Force. The machine gave Pichet a three card, making his total ten. Grimacing over the slow pace of his main deck, Pichet said to the man,

"And how would someone like you," Pichet began coldly, "see the Force being used?"

Before the man could answer the machine hummed and spat out a seven card, bringing the man's total to twenty-four. The man looked at his hand then sighed as he ended his turn. The first round goes to Pichet, he got the closest to twenty without going over it.

As both men's total number went back to zero, the man spoke up.

"I served in the Clone Wars." The man eyed Pichet, trying to gauge his reaction.

The Clone Wars, Pichet knew much about it. He had a passion for studying his conflict that only ended less than two decades ago. The Clone Wars only lasted three years, making it one of the shorter galactic conflicts, but in those three years were some of the most brutal and drastic events that ever took place. Much of the galaxy was crippled and tired by the end of the war so when the Empire formed right after it, not many were filling to go against it.

The machine gave its iconic chirp before sending a ten card for Pichet.

"Did you serve the Republic or the Separatist?" Pichet asked full of wonder.

The machine hummed and shot out a four card for the man. The man acknowledged and ended his turn.

"I was part of the Republic and proud of it." The man said with a gleam.

The machine gave Pichet a six card, giving him a total of sixteen. Pichet barely acknowledged the card, his curiosity of the man was now in full force.

"The Republic didn't really fill up it's military rank with non-clones. Were you an engineer or did you work at your planet's militia?" Pichet asked the man, his suspicion of him all but gone.

As the man looked at the nine card the machine gave him, his total now being at thirteen, he said to Pichet, "I served in the Grand Army of the Republic."

Before the man ended his turn, he played a plus six card, bring his total to nineteen, he then passed, meaning that would be his number until this round was over.

Pichet sat up in shock. That would mean then his opponent was a clone. The machine spat a two card at Pichet, making his total eighteen. The man gave a sigh of relief,

"Looks like this round is mine."

Pichet came out of his shock, then playing his plus two card, bring his total to twenty and winning him this round.

The man stopped his laughter after Pichet's play. He gave a serious grin and said, "That's what I get for being too cocky."

"You were a clone trooper?" Pichet asked the man, ignoring the man's comment.

"I was indeed." The man said, almost in a teasing tone.

"I thought clones were supposed to be enrolled into the Storm Trooper Corps." Pichet said. Pichet met clones before, there aren't many left but Pichet met a few back when he was overseeing an engineering project near Kashyyyk. But they weren't anything like the man before him.

The machine hummed, giving Pichet a one card. Next it went and gave the man a five card.

"That's only for regular Clone Troopers, it didn't apply to ARC troopers." The man said as he studied his hand.

ARC trooper…Advanced Recon Commando. Pichet couldn't believe it. An actual ARC trooper right in front of him. The first hundred ARC troopers were completely unaltered clones of Jango Fett. They were trained personally by Jango Fett and Mandalorians brought by Jango. They had free-will unlike regular Clone Troopers. They first came on the galactic stage during the Battle of Kamino, in which they were awakened from their stasis slumber.

The machine gave Pichet a five card, making his total a six. The men now sat in silence, this round would soon come to an end. The man received another five card, taking his total to ten. Pichet received a ten card, taking his total to sixteen.

The only sounds know were from the bartender cleaning glasses, the hum from the machine, and the electronic beeps it would give off as it dispensed the cards. The man received a one card, but then the man played a plus five card, making his total go to sixteen, making it tied with Pichet.

Pichet held his breathe as the machine beeped, it dispensed a two card, making his total go to eighteen. Pichet quickly play his plus or minus one card, using it as a minus one, making his total at seventeen. The man raised his brow at Pichet, wondering what the man had in mind. Pichet then played his plus three card, bringing his total to twenty.

"Drat!" Exclaimed the man, Pichet had one three rounds, making him the winner of the game.

Barely containing his excitement, Pichet said to the man, "Well then soldier, what's your name?" Completely forgetting about the twenty credits wagered at the start of the game.

The man sighed, "A deal's a deal after all. My given name was ARC-77, but I prefer my choice of a name, Fordo."

ARC-77…Pichet heard that before, he knows he had. Pichet thought back to all the holonets he watched and listened to during his studies. Pichet was brought back to reality by the sound of an object hitting the table. The man known as Fordo threw down twenty credits.

"I believe these are yours." He said with a playful grin.

"What color was your armor?" Pichet asked suddenly.

Fordo raised his brow in surprise, it wasn't a question he was expecting. But nonetheless he answered,

"My phase one and phase two armor was white, but it had a red coating on it."

And with that Pichet knew who the man was. He remembered seeing the holonet report that played after the Battle of Coruscant, he remembered the image it showed of a Clone Trooper keeping his men in place and barring down on a line of approaching Seps. While the newscast didn't report the clone's identification, Pichet later found out that it was a Capt. Fordo holding down that line. An already relatively famous Clone Trooper, Fordo was first made famous during the Battle of Muunilinst, in which a task force he commanded was instrumental for that battle's victory.

"Yo-you!" Pichet could barely say out his words, "You were that Captain Fordo?! What are you doing here? As a trafficker nonetheless!"

Even the bartender gave heed to the small table the two were at after Pichet's outburst.

"We having a problem here?" The non-human man asked, he'd prefer to deal with the problem without having to use the authorities.

"No sir," said Fordo, "just finding out a lot about each other, ain't that right Pichet?"

Pichet nodding his head in agreement, watching the bartender turn his back and get back to work. It was so subtle that Pichet didn't even notice at first. After seeing the bartender wash a plate that it hit Pichet.

Suddenly turning to Fordo, he asked in a quiet yet frantic voice, "What did you say?"

"I said, just finding out a lot about each other, right Pichet." Fordo said with a face that showed no signs of aggression nor ill-will.

"I never told you my name." Pichet said, concern clear in his voice.

Fordo ignored the man as he began to setup another round of Pazaak, letting the machine to take in his and Pichet's deck to assign them four cards from their deck.

"How do you know my name?" Pichet asked slowly in a serious voice.

"You asked me earlier why someone like me would be on here," Fordo began.

The machine dinged as it assigned both men four cards from their respective decks. Fordo picked his cards up and unlike the beginning of the first game, didn't react to his cards, keeping his face straight.

Fordo continuing on said, "It would be boring to just come out and say it. So how about we add that to the bet. If I win I'll tell you why I'm here and if you win I'll let you know how I know your name." Fordo paused to let Pichet chip in, but the man stayed deathly quiet. "Also throw in forty credits, I want to win back what I lost and then some, deal?"

Pichet stayed silent but considered what Fordo said. If Fordo won, then the man would have to tell Pichet why he was there, it was a strange bet, that was for sure. But the way Fordo worded Pichet's prize raised concern. Was there a leak? Did someone know where Pichet was? Pichet would need to know where and how Fordo got his name and silence it before word could go out to the Imperials looking for him.

With a nod, Pichet agreed to the terms and the second game began.


End file.
